Cat and Mouse
by InTheMist032000
Summary: Hinata finds herself caught in a game of cat and mouse with Naruto. Only it's not clear who's the cat, and who's the mouse. Commence stalker being stalked. Two-shot, NaruHina, Rated T, Fluff
1. Chapter 1

Hinata finds herself caught in a game of cat and mouse with Naruto. Only it's not clear who's the cat, and who's the mouse. Commence stalker being stalked. NaruHina, Rated T, Fluff

_I don't own Naruto. If I did, this would be canon._

* * *

**Cat and Mouse**

猫とネズミ

* * *

It was midnight. It was always midnight. She would open her eyes, seemingly of her own will. But it was too much of a coincidence.

It started last week. She would open her eyes without a stir, as if her body were on a timer that went off at exactly midnight. Granted, she was never fully awake, but awake nonetheless. She would look over and sigh at the bold, red letters across the room. _12:00_...

It seemed that, no matter what time she went to sleep the night before, this would be the number that would greet her eyes when she first woke in the middle of the night. It was never different. She had tried to sleep once at 4pm, and woke at midnight. So she tried 7pm the following evening, midnight. Just last night, she had tried 10pm, and here she was again - half-awake, staring at the _12:00_ atop her dresser. She dared not try a later time than last night, afraid it would throw off her schedule. It just wasn't worth it to test this inane theory that for some reason or another, her body was telling her to wake up at exactly twelve every night. And even though that seemed to be the case, she couldn't understand it. So she would lie in her bed, in a hazy state of awareness and recollection, waiting. Waiting for the something or the someone that insisted on waking her up in the middle of the night _every _night.

She would last about five minutes, before her mind grew bored and pictured a sated blonde beside her. The imagined male would just lie there and look at her through half-lidded eyes - seemingly just as tired as herself - occasionally caressing her skin. It always ended the same, in the moments before falling back asleep. He would embrace her head, holding gently onto the side of her face, and nestle his nose against her earlobe, leaving tender kisses at her jaw line. It had left her feeling too good, too happy, and she could never last long before she was waking up later in the morning, thoroughly pleased with her wonderful dreams. She always missed any words the man had to say.

* * *

He was there every night. He wasn't sure why, or even how, but he realized how quickly it was becoming an obsession.

But he couldn't _help _it. He was so intrigued by her. And she was never around in the day for him to gauge and study and observe. She was never to be found, which only added to the fire. And to think it had started out as a tiny little flame.

Whenever he went to ask anyone where she could possibly be, he always got cryptic answers like '_I'm sure she's around..._' or '_Why don't you check under your nose?_' He couldn't understand why anyone couldn't just** tell** him. Then when he asked the one person he was _sure_ he'd get a straight answer from, she had called him an idiot and muttered under her breath something about not understanding what some girl saw in him. He wasn't sure whether 'him' met **him**, but she didn't even answer his question! Not one to tempt Sakura's anger, as she already seemed to be in a bad mood - his question only making it worse - he chose to ask her about it later. But then his days activities had been moot. All for nothing. Because he couldn't find her, and she was no where to be seen. If it weren't for the occasional bumping in to her, and the occasional person mentioning something about her, he would have started to wonder whether she truly existed, or if she were a mere figment of his imagination meant to drive him insane with curiosity.

So that brought him here. To the Hyuuga compound. It was his last hope in being able to learn something about her.

He would never be able to tell someone how he managed to sneak in - after all, only his apprentice was privy to his tricks - but he wasn't sure himself. It was quite the feat, and yet he had no idea how he did it. He'd been riding on instinct. He supposed he had those years of pranks and sneaking in and out of the academy under his belt to thank. But then there was barely any trick involved, and he seemed to have been led to her window by sheer luck. Really, it was more coincidence than anything. He had just been crouching in one of the trees high enough to reach the roof and, during his survey of the compound, he had turned around and was suddenly looking into her bedroom.

He couldn't believe his luck. It could have taken him hours upon hours of sneaking and peering in to find her, but there she was - on his first try! Not even, since he hadn't _really_ been trying to find her just yet. He grinned, appeased by his seemingly good fortune, allowing his ego to inflate _just _a little.

He wasn't able to make out much, being a cloudy night, but what little moonlight there was cast into her private quarters and onto the bed against the far corner of the room. There was a silhouette, obviously of a young voluptuous woman, but all he could really _see_ of her was her hair. So he decided to add that first on his observation list, admiring the long tussled locks of violet draped across her sheets. Admiring how they seemed to glow in the ethereal light of the moon.

He had been able to study a lot about her in his nightly visits. Especially since, as of late, she'd be more or less awake once he arrived. He couldn't have timed it more perfect - thus why he made a point of showing up at exactly midnight - how she would open those unreal lilac eyes of hers just as he was looking in. She was usually on her back, and always looked over to his left. He still felt a pang of panic jolt through his body whenever she did that, because he had always irrationally thought she somehow knew he was there, but it left quickly once she started staring at the ceiling. And then he was excited, and waited for it. That smile. That unbelievable, entirely uninhibited, **approving** smile. At first, all he wanted was to see it once more. Then he decided that he wanted to see it one day looking at _him_. If it managed to show itself _because _of him, that would just be a bonus. It was small, and dazed, but it was _beautiful_. It engulfed him every time. Slowly, of course, in the way a snake digests as it eats. Only it wasn't like that, because that was gross and completely unlike the way it swallowed _him_, but it was the only way he could think to describe it. But that was beside the point because _that smile_ was _right there_, as powerful as it was stunning, dancing slowly across his skin, leaving him with goosebumps and tingles that took his breath away every time.

And before he knew it, she was back asleep. That smile becoming a mere ghost of its former self, but still one of the most incredible things he had had the privilege to see. He tried not to stay too much longer after she fell asleep, recognizing the fact that there was only so much he could observe once she was no longer awake, but sometimes he couldn't help himself. There was something about her, on her face, as she slept, that he could never put his finger on, but it drove him positively mad every single time. So, sometimes, he would stay there for a few more minutes, upwards to thirty, to try and figure it out. And knowing himself better, he knew he could _never_ figure it out if he weren't _looking_ at her as he tried. There was just no way, because memory and imagination just weren't as good as the real thing. There was just _no way_ he could replicate in his mind how subtle her lips were formed in that delicate smile of hers, and yet formed a pout. _No way _he could replicate the way her eyelashes twitched gently across the skin of her cheeks. Or the way her brows lifted and tensed _just enough_ to insinuate she was dreaming. Just no way. He couldn't do it. He tried. He tried on multiple accounts, but it was never as good as he'd seen it. And every time he witnessed it in person, he knew it never could be.

* * *

She began to feel more and more restless. The only time she was getting decent sleep were in the hours after midnight, when she was dreaming about Naruto. In passing, she wondered if maybe it was worth it, to be able to have so many wonderful dreams about her secret love, but when she realized it was beginning to damage her performance in training, she knew it had to stop. But she didn't know where to begin. She didn't have a _clue_. And even though she had more than good enough reason to do away with it, what had offended her the most - and had been the final straw - was that it was infringing on her abilities to watch Naruto from afar. She was so out of it today, she somehow ended up at the women's bathing spring, and was depressed for the rest of the day when she couldn't find him anywhere afterward. He wasn't in any of the spots she had known to be his favorite.

She had decided that the only thing she _could_ do was to stay up and wait for midnight to see what happens, despite her previous concerns at toying with her schedule. But since it was already infringing on her performance, why not her schedule, too? She had to do what she had to do, in hopes that this will finally end and she can finally get some rest.

It was much harder than she thought it would be. By 10:30, she was already dozing off. Trying to wait for the clock to strike midnight on her bed wasn't going to cut it. It was far too comfortable, and she was far too tired to risk it. Too exhausted to even sigh, she dragged her body to the opposite side of the room, and sat in the shade underneath her windowsill, to the right of her dresser, her back resting against the wall. Wanting that 12:00 to show up on her clock had never been so desired.

* * *

Naruto was more than determined to get a good observation tonight. It was terribly disheartening how he _still_ couldn't seem to find her during the day. He tried everywhere - _everywhere_. He had even tried the local girls' bath, in hopes to find the indigo head, but all that got him was a good beating and a bunch of tossed insults.

Still slightly sullen over the petty jabs he'd gotten from the scandalized women - when he had just been _innocently _searching for Hinata - he was utterly depressed to find that said woman wasn't where she was supposed to be. He didn't know where she was, _again_. And her sheets were practically untouched. Was she not even in bed yet? At _this_ time of night?

Feeling hopeless, frustrated, and like he'd just had his chain yanked particularly hard, he huffed aggressively. He was done with this game of cat and mouse. He felt like a cat who kept getting caught in traps, never able to find or catch that danged mouse, and he was fed up. Sick of it. He leaned in just enough to rest his head on the glass of her window, feeling defeated. And just as he was feeling a defiant burst of energy - for Uzumaki Naruto was _never_ defeated, and _never_ gave up - he noticed something peculiar. The window wasn't locked.

He tested the window then, wondering if it would creak loudly in protest, or open smoothly, allowing him access. He would let that be his answer on what to do next. And before he knew it he was crouched, head leaning into the room, on the windowsill, eyes scanning the room swiftly, before leaping into the room with a soft _thud_. When his mind caught up with his body, he was wedged in the throes of wonder and fear. He was in Hinata's room. In her room, and just a few feet away from where she slept, lay awake, and smiled at night. Nights in which he watched from outside her window in admiration and curiosity. And here he was, elated in his success, and fearful of any possible consequences.

He had heard a shifting behind him, possibly even a mumble, and turned in curiosity. He fell out of his crouch by her bed in the process and felt his soul leave his body, just for a second, when he saw something slowly crawling towards him from out of the shadows underneath the windowsill.

"I'm so happy you showed up," he heard. Despite the friendly, playful tone, he couldn't recall ever feeling _quiet_ so terrified. In fact, he was sure that tone was even scarier than if it were mean and horrible-sounding. Was this a trap? Would this be the last one the cat found itself caught in? He briefly thought, in relief, that if it **was** a trap of some kind, and it were meant for _Hinata_, that at least she'd be safe.

But by the time the figure made its way over to him, exposing itself to the moonlight pouring inside, he realized that it _was_ Hinata. Those gorgeous violet tresses could be no one else's. She was glowing in that ethereal way of the moon, bathed in its light, in a way only she could manage. And then there was that smile. Oh Lord, _that smile_. It was looking at him. Facing him. Completely and entirely _for_ _him_. It felt even **better** than he thought it would. He was enchanted, unable to look away, and only barely able to recall her hand reaching out to him.

"You're so dressed. You're even wearing your shoes." She giggled. _Giggled_. Was he dreaming? Somehow fell asleep, didn't wake, and now he was dreaming?

"Are you here to help pass the time?" She whispered, to which he suddenly noticed there was no stutter to be heard. And she was draped over him, just about _glued_ to him. He didn't know how to process or take any of it in. He couldn't believe it was really Hinata. Be... Because Hinata was the stuttering, shy, beautiful young woman who twiddled her thumbs, blushed, and nearly passed out anytime he interacted with her. Not that that was very often, but only because he couldn't ever seem to _find _her.

"You're so warm, Naruto-kun..." He practically jumped out of his skin at first, hearing his name called so pleasantly - he was far too used to hearing it in frustrated, yelling, screaming tones - and then at how close it was to his ear. And then he realized his face was being held onto, gently, delicately, _lovingly_, in a way that had his heart swelling. He was nervous, just a little sweaty, and entirely uncomfortable. Did Hinata know what she was doing? Who she was doing it to? Sure, she'd said his name, but... it didn't make sense. People didn't treat him this way. They just didn't. Not that that didn't make him sad, or anything, because it kind of did... but it just made no _sense_!

She was cuddling his neck, still holding onto his face, though her right hand strayed to the back of his neck, tangling itself in his blonde hair, moving up and down in calm, soothing strokes.

He felt light headed. On a cloud. He was either going to pass out, or be pushed off. Surely, she would wake up - **truly** wake up - realize what she was doing, and blame him for it. Followed by some sort of un-called for beating. That was how Sakura would react, or any girl for that matter. _That _was how he was used to being treated.

But she didn't stop. Just kept on stroking the back of his head, as if she were trying to soothe away any hurt he felt, any pain his heart just couldn't let go of by itself, and before he knew it, he found himself feeling vulnerable. Vulnerable in a way only _she _had ever seen him. But that was ok, because she was there again. She could protect him... when it was supposed be the other way around.

He didn't know that he had been holding onto her possessively, as if protesting she ever let him go. He didn't know he had leaned back into the side of her bed, bringing her with him. He didn't know his eyelids had closed of their own will, before he slowly slipped into the best night sleep he'd ever had - Hinata soon following.

* * *

She had had just the most _wonderful_ dream. So she had failed to stay up until midnight, that's alright. At least she had slept the whole night through, whatever strange phenomena that was there to wake her at 12:00 never showing up. And there was that dream. That _dream_. It had felt so... **real**. Like he was really there. Like she was really able to hold him, touch him, his hair, _speak_ to him - no stutter, no blush. It was the most incredible feeling in the world. It was the love she had for Naruto plus utter liberation. It felt so _free_, so right. She wanted to feel that way again, and again. For forever and on, till beyond her time in this life was up.

The part of her that wasn't protesting the notion of staying asleep - to get back to that wonderful and rare dream - couldn't wait to start the day. She was positively warm and aflutter inside, focused on finding Naruto as soon as possible to start the day right, when she stirred awake. Her first intelligible thought was to check what time it was. She hoped it wasn't too early, or there was no way Naruto would be up yet, but stopped all line of thought when something under her stirred as well. She froze at the undeniably Naruto-blonde hair in her line of sight. Mind sinking in irrational thought, she was briefly horrified that somehow in the night, she must have cut off strands of the golden mane and brought them back with her.

But then a moan met her ears - _literally_. The warm breath that followed the sound tickled the flesh of her ear. The blush that overtook her body was one of which strictly reserved only for moments in which Naruto was ridiculously close to her. So why? The information connected, and she threw herself back in reflex.

To her extreme mortification - and hysterical joy - Naruto was sitting against her bed. In her room. With her. Completely asleep. _Can't be happening_. The deep red hue dominated her normally pale body. She was doused in it. She couldn't think, yet her mind was racing. In an incomprehensible stutter, she called out to him, only for him to shift in response.

This couldn't be happening. Was impossible. No way. She dared not move, nor look away from the unaware man at her bedside as he opened his eyes.

It was a long moment of agonizing silence. For her, at least. She wished she could have just left the room. Or run out her window. Anything to get out and away from his line of sight as it fell on her. But she was frozen.

He was looking directly at her, through sleep-glazed eyes. After a yawn, and languid stretch - the fact that it was against her mattress effectively engraving itself into her brain - he smiled at her. But not his typical, teeth and all, show-off of a smile, that was probably better named a grin. No, she absolutely loved that smile, but this one... This one was smaller, gentle, vulnerable even. It took her breath away and had her irrationally believing it was somehow reserved exclusively for her. After all, she couldn't recall ever seeing it before, for anyone else. So it must be hers.

"Good morning, Hinata." She froze up again, not sure why he was talking to her. He wasn't supposed to see her, or acknowledge her. That wasn't the way things worked. He would greet other people, and she would watch him and hope that one day he would do it to her. But it never actually _happened_. It didn't work that way. She had long since accepted that. And he wasn't allowed to say her name. Not like that. It wasn't fair.

She heard him sigh, and she crawled further into herself, a part of her fearing he had grown tired of her silence. It _was _rude of her to just ignore his warm greeting. But it was something she had waited so long for, that it was just too much when it was suddenly delivered in the most unlikely of ways, at a completely unexpected time, in a place she would never dare dream of. She attempted a response of some sort - she figured anything would do at this point - but she could only manage a weak, stuttered 'uh... um'.

He chuckled quietly to himself, and her blush doubled in power. She didn't think it had ever been this bad. But then, she wasn't usually in this situation, so it would make sense.

He began to make his way over to her, and she slowly inched away, freezing up every now and then when she caught sight of that defenseless smile. A small part of her, in the back of her mind, was saddened by the fact that there was no time for her to enjoy or admire it.

She gasped quickly, in terror, when her back touched lightly against the wall. Now _she _was defenseless. There was no where for her to go, and he kept on coming. In a lame means of defense, she held her hands tightly in front of her, as if they would morph into a wall of sorts and separate herself from him, allowing her to disappear. He was a mere few feet away from her when a wonderfully shy smile met her eyes - something in which boggled her mind entirely on its own - and he looked at her tentatively, "Promise you won't pass out, ok?"

She could only wonder what he meant for a few seconds, before he was leaning in and bringing her into him in a whole-hearted, friendly hug. Her mind was swimming in feelings and thoughts she couldn't entirely process.

He pulled back just enough to stare into her eyes, a smile lifting his lips. Her blush darkened at their proximity. And just as she thought she had the swaying temptation of escape under control, he touched her cheek with his lips in a light peck.

"A-Ah! You can't pass out," he said sternly, pointing a warning finger at her after noticing the slight sway to her posture.

She gripped harder onto her hands, trying very hard to obey his words. But how was it possible, when he was suddenly hugging and _kissing_ her so willingly and openly - in her own _bedroom_, of all places - and causing all sorts of things to rush through her head so fast that it was _sure_ to make her faint? It was a terribly unfair thing to ask of her.

He sighed again, and ran a hand through his hair, glancing over her once. "Ahh, I'm sorry, Hinata. It's just that, well, last night... I guess I just wanted to.. er thank you, or something..."

Her heart leapt to her throat as she squeaked a soft, curt, scandalized "_What_". Her skin bristled like never before, and the hair on her body stood on end at the horrifying implication that last night wasn't a mere dream, but reality, and _really happened_. That she really threw herself at him, held him, _caressed_ him, and spoke to him in a flirty haze thinking he was the common figment of her imagination because she was _half-asleep_. She could just **die**.

His following words were nothing but an incomprehensible hum, being overpowered by the pulsing blood in her head, rushing through her ears and drowning out the possibility of hearing anything else.

* * *

He was thoroughly amused. Though a part of him felt bad at how utterly embarrassed she was, he quickly justified himself believing that once she was over it, she would be deeply thrilled by his show of gratitude. If last night were anything to take into consideration. And he knew it was. He had had dreams all night long that pieced together any and all interactions he had had with her, coming to the realization of _why_ she had acted so seemingly out of character. But it had clicked for him then, with the help of his subconscious, that _that _was the real Hinata. The one she kept trying to bring out, to show to him and to others. But he liked to believe mainly him.

He had woken up with the firm resolution of helping her. When he saw her basically flat out on the floor a few feet away from him, frozen with a delectable blush choking her skin, he couldn't help but begin right away. She would need a _lot _of help. Nightly_ help, perhaps_, he thought in a sly frame of mind.

And then she suddenly wasn't listening to him anymore. He cursed quietly to himself, wondering where he went too far. He shook her gently to stir her out of her coma-like state, and briefly thought of how long it would take to get her to the point she was at last night. Her body jerked underneath his arms, and he smiled again for her. As if to say '_I'm not going to hurt you._' He was pleased to see her gaze back up at him, thrown by the wonder, embarrassment, and slight fear swirling within.

"How about you meet me later at Ichiraku, hm? We can talk then, if you want... about everything - if you want! Ahh, and sorry for kind of swinging all this on you," though he kind of wasn't _really_, "I know you just woke up, and are confused as all hell, but.. I can explain, kind of. But you** have** to meet me for ramen later today, ok?

He watched his words sink in and admired the way her eyes seemed to expose her mind processing the information. When he eventually got a slight, dazed nod, he grinned victoriously and let go of her shoulders. "Alright! So," he glanced around the room, noticing the bold, red _9:00_ on her dresser, "How about we meet up in an hour?" He figured it was good enough time for her to collect herself and her thoughts... and recall last night. He _definitely _wanted to bring _that_ up. His insides fluttered at just the memory of it.

Getting another nod in response, he grinned once more before lifting himself to leave her in peace for another hour. He was giddy inside, as he hopped onto the windowsill. And with one more fleeting glance at the dumbstruck indigo-haired beauty frozen to the spot on her bedroom floor, he was gone.

* * *

Sakura sighed, thinking back to the question Naruto asked her just over a week ago. _"Sakura-chan, do you know where Hinata is?"_ She was shocked, at first, to hear that he seemed to know the girl existed - let alone the fact he was actively looking for her. But then she was upset. Upset at him and Hinata and at _him_. Looking back on it, she felt a little guilty. She should have told him, or a least gave him a **hint** that the shy, hopelessly-in-love girl was likely following his trail. She didn't know _what_ to do to help the poor girl. She wanted to somehow help guide him towards her. Actually, she wanted to just smack Naruto in the face and scream at him for not realizing Hinata has been in love with him for far longer than he deserved. And then she figured she should find him and do just that - but then she remembered Hinata and sighed in frustration.

She had been looking for him everywhere. She finally found him practically floating down the street towards Ichiraku. She had decided she was just going to tell him where he could likely find her, depending on where he was, and be nice, but she couldn't help but feel the all-too-familiar itch in her fist at the too-happy boisterous buffoon in front of her as he walked dazedly into the ramen shop.

She sucked in a breath, pushing her temper down, and walked toward him.

"Hey Naruto, any luck in finding Hinata?" She was only very shocked to see that he hadn't gorged himself yet in the bowl of ramen before him. Instead, he was staring off into nothing like a complete idiot, with his hands holding onto a pair of unbroken chopsticks midair. Her eyebrow scrunched in irritation and question.

Laced with hidden meaning, he replied, "Oh, yes. Yes, I found her," before sighing dreamily off into the nothingness he stared into.

- - - - - - -End.

A/N: I was thinking earlier this morning, once I woke up, and I realized something. I'm the type of person that would stalk my stalker. And then I started laughing, thinking how Naruto would totally do that (only entirely different and not nearly as creepily as I would), and poof. There was this.

I seem to enjoy those types of situations in which Naruto will say or think something that makes complete and total sense, but because it applies to him too, becomes utterly hypocritical of him. I just _love _it.

**Thank you so much for reading! **Reviews are very much appreciated :)

_Sidenote: _Took my car to get washed today, as a way of taking a break from this, and then I started questioning myself. Is it sad that I consider getting my car washed a **break**? Isn't that typically a chore or errand to people? Why is my life like this?


	2. Chapter 2

Alright, I caved. I'm a slavish puppet who thinks it's a puppeteer. You guys have stroked my ego way too much; this just came out of **nowhere**. Damn it. I'm slightly scared of this utterly elated feeling in my gut. What did you guys _do_ to me?

_I don't own Naruto. If I did, I would be sad I didn't own Hinata as well. _

- - - - - - -Start.

She couldn't help it.

Old habits died hard. So hard, that she wasn't shocked she woke up here. Well, she wasn't shocked she woke up. Because that meant she had passed out at one point. But _here_? Where was _here_?

Confusion clouded her memory, and she couldn't recall where she was, why she was there, or even why she had passed out - because passing out was the only logical reason why she didn't know where she was. She quickly realized she was on something soft - firm, but soft - and came to the conclusion it was a bed in some room. There was a large window to her left, blinding her with the amount of natural light flooding in, before she looked over to see what was on her right. The jarring closeness of round, curious, sapphire-blue eyes made her scream. Well, what _would_ have been a scream, if it weren't stuck in her throat.

It must have shown on her face though, because those curious, wondrous eyes of blue snapped quickly into an expression of its own horror.

"Ah, Hinata! Are you ok, what's wrong? Can you breathe?" And then he was moving, so quickly, _touching_ her, and lifting her up as though to help her breathe. She was sure it would be the cause of her asphyxiation.

He was partly behind her - left knee on the bed, behind her back - standing just off the side of the bed. Just where _was_ she? But then she could feel the heat radiating from his chest at her back, his hands on her shoulders, and she felt like she would start hyperventilating. That was, if she could manage to suck any air into her lungs. And she was really, _this close_, from passing out again when he started rubbing soothingly at her shoulders, telling her to, "Breathe. It's alright, just breathe."

She couldn't speak. But even if she could, she was sure it would have just been an incomprehensible mess of stuttering and flailing lips. There were no words to describe the burning warmth that was her skin. She was just positively sure, from the intensity of the boiling sensation, that she would spontaneously burst into flames. How could this be happening? How could she be, one second, sitting impossibly happy next to Naruto at Ichiraku Ramen, listening to him bring up the embarrassing subject of what was supposed to be her _dream_, and the next be waking up in a foreign place, previous mentioned man at her back, touching her, and being _too close_?

It was all too much. Far too much. _Way_ too much. Too, too much to be conscious at the same time.

* * *

He was alarmed when the frigid young woman in his hands went suddenly slack. Terror clawed at his heart, his hand instinctively shooting to her chest in search of a beating, thumping, _something_. He was further alarmed by the pace of her pulse, which he immediately found. It was off the charts! Not knowing what else to do, he stood there, with a limp Hinata leaning against him, her head resting against his shoulder. He stood there, hunched over, and waited. As if he would suddenly know what to do.

As the seconds ticked by, slowly turning into minutes, he was relieved to feel the aggressive pounding fizzle into a mere _thump_, _thump_. Then he blinked, left stupefied in the wake of his growing-fear. She just passed out. _Again_. But at least she was fine now, and not in any imminent danger.

He maneuvered his way out from behind her, replacing himself with a pillow and blanket - so she'd be propped up. _Just to be safe_, he thought, in case she woke up again and found herself unable to breathe. He then looked solemnly at the pathetic bundle behind her back. He wished he had more pillows. He wondered briefly if he should grab some of the cushions from the small, old, rarely-used couch in his living room, but quickly dismissed it. Those weren't worthy of being used by Hinata. They were scratchy, uncomfortable, and more or less useless. He didn't know why he still had them, or the couch, but he figured he should just keep them. A living room needed a couch. It wasn't a living room without one. But even then, it wasn't much of a living room. It's not like he ever really _lived_ in it. It was basically just a large span of flooring he had to walk through to get in and out of his apartment. Not that it was large. Just exceedingly large for his needs. After all, the most time he ever spent in his apartment was when he was sleeping.

Entirely distracted, he left the sleeping Hinata in his bed as he made his way to the new direction of his thoughts, to look at said cushions. He nodded in confirmation that they just wouldn't do. Then he wondered what he should do while he waited for her to wake up. It hadn't taken her extremely long the first time around. He'd only been watching her curiously by the side of his bed - fascinated by how she seemed to glow in the sunlight as well, and thinking she just somehow had a thing for glowing indoors - for a few minutes when her eyes fluttered open. But then she looked over to him, and he was just ready to give her a smile, when a strangled noise met his ears, and she looked at him like she couldn't breathe. So now here he was, waiting for her to wake up, after passing out. Again.

It wasn't exactly how he had thought their morning would go. He figured maybe she might, _almost_ pass out, but he didn't think she _would_. Twice. His shoulders slumped at the misfortune, dragging his feet to the kitchen. He needed something to drink to soothe his gloomy frame of mind.

* * *

In what felt like too many times that day, her eyes opened. She didn't know where she was, or how she got to where she was, but she was dreadfully comfortable. She made to turn onto her side - to hopefully get some more, much needed sleep - when she realized her feet weren't bare. She sat up with a start and stared at her feet. Why was she still wearing her sandals? Indoors? Come to think of it, why was she so dressed, when she was sleeping? Her right brow creased in question. Where was she again?

She looked around then, completely without a clue as to where she was, but feeling as though it were vaguely familiar. Somehow. It most certainly wasn't _her_ room, or any room she knew of, but it felt familiar, in a way she couldn't pinpoint - like she might know where or who's room this was. A blush rest lazily on her cheeks, and her lips curved upwards at the passing thought that maybe - hopefully - it was _Naruto's_ room, but she quickly bit her bottom lip, unable to stop the smile, and shook her head violently at the idea. But then she was jolted at the sudden thought. _Naruto-kun!_ Where was Naruto? They were at Ichiraku, weren't they? So where was he now, and why was she _here_, wherever _here_ was?

She tried recalling her morning with Naruto - not daring to think of it as a date - and it all seemed to come back to her slowly, but surely. She had walked to the stand, showing up at exactly 10:00, just as she promised. Or, as Naruto duped her into promising in her desperate attempt to get his focus off of her and last night. _Last night_. It still horrified her that it had all actually happened. She couldn't _believe_ how she had acted, and yet a part of her wanted to do it again. The part of her that was ridiculously eager for Naruto to find out she loved him. That small, tiny part of her. The small, tiny part of her that was somehow starting to overpower the rest of her. She had been able to keep it dormant for _years_, and now it was slightly angry at her, and quite vindictive, but thankfully even more delighted at the idea of coming out to play. That was when her imagination had come up with the fictitious Naruto-kun that visited her nightly in her room. With _him_ around, that small part of her was free to fool around, coming up with all kinds of things that would embarrass her counterpart - if she weren't herself so enthralled and mesmerized.

_I'm pathetic_, she thought, a bit wistfully. But she couldn't help how much fun it was to stay up just a little later than usual to recall where Naruto had been earlier in the day, and then twist it in her head to make it seem as though he had done it with her. She realized how silly it was to live vicariously through her imagination, but it seemed to pacify that small part of her that was dying to tell Naruto how much she loved him. And, well, she couldn't have _that_ happening.

Realizing her train of thought had gotten off course, she shook her head violently again. Naruto-kun. Ichiraku. 10:00. Right. So she'd shown up - making sure to be punctual, as it was engraved into her as a Hyuuga - and sat beside him, feeling dazed much too soon by how happy seeing her seemed to make him. She enjoyed the way her heart fluttered at the memory. And then they had just talked, casually, as friends, in the way she had always dreamed of. Some noodles would slap against his chin every now and then, before he'd suck them into his mouth with a prominent slurping noise. Manners that would be seen as utterly obnoxious and non-existent by any other Hyuuga. But not Hinata, no. In fact, feeling a somewhat giddy sensation of slight rebellion, she had giggled at the act, as if to laugh in her entire family's face. Even now, she didn't feel that well-known burn of shame at her little exploit of passive-aggressiveness. Naruto's presence of good-happy-fluffy-feelings was far too powerful, and had cloaked her in an air of security. She still felt safe, even in her unknown whereabouts. And then he had brought up last night. Her happy feelings had stopped as if the words 'last night' pushed an invisible pause button on a remote control to her emotions. Biting her lip, she listened to him animatedly, albeit vaguely awkward, tell her his version of last night, through his perspective. She was getting more and more nervous, feeling that clouded, swaying impulse dance threateningly in the back of her head. And then he had asked her if she really knew it was him, and why she did what she did _if_ she did. Ah. So _that_ was why she passed out. She could still taste the ramen as if it were still in her mouth, running along her tastebuds, and still hear the clear, trying-to-be-nonchalant tone of Naruto's voice, before that looming cloud in the back of her head washed her vision in black.

And then, as if on cue, she suddenly remembered even more than that. Something even worse than fainting on Naruto, when he had taken the time out of his morning to eat breakfast with her, even if it was ramen. No, what was worse than fainting on Naruto, was _fainting on Naruto_. In this bed. Just _where_ _was_ she? Why was she in a bed in the first place, and why was Naruto there? That familiar feeling - the one where she felt like she should _know_ where she was - clawed at her mind again. She looked frantically around the room for a clue. They were seemingly everywhere. It was a mess. There were clothes and objects carelessly about, and the only place that seemed to be uncluttered was the top of a dresser. A dresser that had a framed picture on top. A picture with a very well-known, younger version of the man she loved inside of it. Oh goodness gracious. There was no way she could _really_ be in Naruto's bedroom - in his _bed_ - of all places, could she? She looked around the room once more, cautiously, forcing her mind to slow down and take it all in. There were only three options: Sakura, Kakashi,... or Naruto. Due to the un-cleanliness and amount of clothes strewn about - clothes that were suspiciously ranging from black to orange - she figured it was highly unlikely to be Sakura. So it had to be Kakashi or Naruto. Because it had to make sense somehow that Kakashi would bring her limp body to his bedroom after she passed out sitting beside Naruto. There had to be some logic in that somewhere.

In a furious blush of defeat, she knew there wasn't. She was in Naruto's bedroom. On his bed. These were his sheets, and that was his pillow. This was where he laid every night to sleep. It was positively delightful. She didn't know where _he_ was - perhaps in the bathroom? - but she couldn't care to wonder or question too determinedly. The opportunity was too golden, too tempting, too much hers, that she practically dived back into the bed, holding the pillow, _his_ pillow, tightly to her chest. It smelled_ just_ like him, only better, because she was able to enjoy it for however long she wished.

When the reality of her situation - the full reality - set in, she stared at the ceiling with wide eyes, uncertainty creeping into the lilac eyes that were her own. So she had woke up, after passing out, in this very bed once before. She couldn't recall in her hasty confusion - and Naruto's too-closeness - what it was exactly that had been too much for her that she had fainted in the first place. But now she could. And it was really, a very good, _completely _justified reason. Because honestly, how could she have possibly answered his question? That she often imagined him in the moments before sleep to live out her wistful whims, because she was madly in love with him and too much of a coward to tell him, so she had to resort to interacting with a version of him that existed only in her head? She would sound like a complete loon! She would be mortified! She would die. And then, for a moment, things made sense. Only they didn't. Because nothing explained why, out of all places, she had woken up _in his bed_. In his _apartment_. Why, out of anywhere to take her, he had chosen to take her to the one place she never dared in a million years - well, maybe only a few times - to dream of, imagine, or hope to one day see.

She heard something then, a shuffling _bang_, that had her blinking in its direction. Frowning, unable to think of what it could possibly be, she sat up and tilted her body around to face the open doorway of Naruto's bedroom. She hadn't realized it was open, but before that burning sensation could come back to her cheeks - because _really_, what if he had walked in on her and saw her cuddling his pillow like a giddy, love-sick child? - she pushed forward, deciding to explore the possibilities of what could have made that noise, armed with only the pillow of Uzumaki Naruto.

She walked curiously into the depths of Naruto's apartment, stopping short at the sight of Naruto rubbing his head, glaring at the door of a cabinet in the kitchen. She stood in the large archway that connected to the living room, smiling at the sight before her. She felt dangerously blissful, as if she were in one of those imagined scenarios that small part of her came up with at night, and waited for the impending moment where she would suddenly wake up in her bed.

"Ah, Hinata! You're awake! I'm so-" he stopped abruptly, startling her almost as much as his sudden exclamation, "Is that my pillow?"

She dropped it then, as if it had burned her, and held her hands tightly, embarrassed. What had possessed her to carry it around with her like a child carries around a blanket or treasured stuffed animal? Still, even knowing how childish it was, she wished she hadn't dropped it.

* * *

The only thing he could do after watching the way her fingers twiddled together, as her feet shifted her weight in a more-than-obvious notion of discomfort, was sigh at the relapse in her behavior. He knew he had been overly spoiled by her playful, half-asleep self. And he knew he couldn't expect her to suddenly start acting like that again. He _knew_ that, but. He was stuck. Because she was so introverted, and _shy_, and guarded, and all he wanted to do was interact with her, and talk with her, and maybe while she sat in his lap, stroking the back of his neck. _You know, like last night..._, he thought innocently. And if things progressed further than that, well, who was he to deny the nature of things?

But then he realized where his thoughts had taken a turn and backtracked his focus to the girl standing in the entry to his kitchen, his pillow lying at her feet. "Man, Hinata! You really scared me, suddenly passing out like that!" With a stray thought, he laughed, "It's been a while since you've done _that_. But man, I was so freaked out I didn't know _what_ to do! When you weren't waking up, I just took you to the first place that came to mind. I'm sorry, didn't mean to freak you out or anything. But, you're a pretty heavy sleeper, you know that? And then, just when I thought you were going to wake up and tell me what happened, you fainted _again_!"

"U-uh, um, N-Naruto-kun, I, ah..." He blinked at her furious stuttering, barely able to comprehend anything she said.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Hinata," he put his hands up as if surrendering, and continued, "Calm down a bit, I don't understand." He gave her a miniature version of his trademark smile, hoping to coax one back.

She chewed on her bottom lip for just a moment, before treating him with an even smaller, sheepish smile. "U-Um, w-well... I'm s-sorry, Naruto-kun."

There was a moment of silence drawn between them, and he wondered how he would ever get _anywhere_ with Hinata if she was constantly like this. It was one of the biggest challenges he'd ever come across, but the feat would be glorious, and the reward would, hopefully, be one that kept on giving. So, he decided to do what he was best at. Being blunt.

"Hinata, do you like me?"

He would have laughed, or even smiled, at the way she froze up - like a child would when they got caught red-handed - but he couldn't bring himself to once he saw the dread in her eyes. _Urgh_. If he didn't know better, he would have thought that 'like' was the furthest description away from what she felt for him. But, he was determined to pull it out of her, because he _knew_ it was there. It had to be. She wouldn't have treated him like she did last night if she didn't. He was done being dense and entirely over with playing games. She was way too good at them, and she always won. This time, he would be victorious - he was sure of it.

"Hinata?"

She wasn't looking at him. That incessantly nagging, impatient part of him was going **crazy**, raging underneath his skin, wanting nothing more than to just shake the answer out of her, but he knew better. He was older now, wiser, and he just knew _better_. She needed patience, if he was ever going to reap any reward from helping her come out of that ridiculously thick shell of hers. It would have been impressive, if it weren't driving him completely bonkers.

He could see, even from where he was standing, the warring emotions gushing through her, very much like an overflowing waterfall. But before his guilt could take over, and likely stop any more pressing of the subject - because she seemed to have a very strong difficulty with it - his determination shot it down. He couldn't let her get away this time. It was time to catch that elusive mouse.

"W-What?" She asked, in an entirely hushed tone. He knew it was very likely she was just trying to buy some time; probably to mull over what to tell him, to evade him once more.

Almost begrudgingly, he indulged her, and asked again, "Do you like me?"

Only, it had come out completely unlike how he wanted it to. He wanted to sound friendly, but strong and manly, like he knew something she didn't know he knew. Which he did. But, it didn't come out like that at all. It was breathy, barely any louder than her hushed question, and almost desperate sounding. Weak, even, if he thought about it. As if he wasn't sure what her answer would be. As if it were a likely possibility he would hear '_no_'. As if he were scared.

That vulnerable feeling clawed at his chest once more, like last night, only she wasn't soothing the pain that immediately followed. He swallowed hard, trying to will it away.

Suddenly thinking to ask, he followed his question with another breathy, "Be honest."

* * *

She didn't know what to do. Or what to say. She knew exactly where this sudden urge to know whether or not she liked him came from - _nowhere_. She was so floored by it, so incredibly caught off guard, that she had almost, _just_ _barely_, let it slip. All of it. Everything. That she loved him, lived for him, _breathed_ for him. For him and the moment he would finally notice her. And then she was stuck between the horror of him finding out, and the sheer delight that would come from him finally knowing the truth.

It took her a while, but she finally convinced herself to wait, _just a little longer_, managing to keep the increasingly growing, not-so-small part of her at bay. She mentally nodded, firm in her decision to simply tell him that she did like him, as a friend, when her mouth shut before it could even open.

Her heart could just break. Splinter and shatter into a million pieces, she didn't care. Why was he looking at her like that? She couldn't understand. It was dreadfully familiar, from the days in their childhood, when Naruto was the outcast pariah of Konoha. She had seen a similar expression on his face before, but it wasn't nearly as devastating as it was for her to bear then as it was now. Because it was just mere yards away from her now, and so acutely sorrow-stricken. Nearly desperate, in a way, as if he were just seconds away from crumbling apart. And of course, he was looking at _her_. Facing _her_. How could she have possibly interpreted it as being for anyone or any reason other than _her_? What did she do? What had she done? She couldn't bear the thought it was her fault somehow, that he was looking at her like that because of her. But then she wondered, more importantly, more urgently, how could she possibly rid him of it?

Overwhelmed by her own sadness - and the belief that it was _her_ fault, _her_ doing he was like this - her eyes welled with moisture and her legs were moving of their own accord, towards him, for him, quickly closing the gap between them. She couldn't look away from those eyes staring at her, begging her to answer his question.

"Don't cry, Naruto-kun," she whispered, bringing a hand to his face to wipe away non-existent tears.

"What are you talking about, Hinata, you're the one...," and then he was doing the same for her, only somehow there _were _tears to wipe away, and she was confused, and slightly curious to know where they had come from, but mostly concerned about erasing that offensive sadness in those wonderfully blue eyes that she loved so much. Sadness had no right to overcome Naruto anymore; it was an entirely undeserving emotion of his greatness. She had to erase it. He couldn't be sad. There was too much of it in his childhood, he didn't deserve to be put through any more of it now. She had to protect him from it somehow. But how? How?

"Don't be sad, please," she whispered again, refusing to stop wiping away the tears she never saw him cry. But she knew they had been there, once, when no one was looking. She had to get rid of them.

"Hinata, what are you-"

"I love you. So, please, don't be sad. Please." Her vision was getting blurry. So blurry, but she couldn't stop. Naruto was still sad. A part of her was happy when he froze. It made it easier to wipe away the absent tears.

* * *

It was never a common occurrence. Moments like this were few and far between for Uzumaki Naruto. His mind was racing.

Thoughts and memories were swirling around so fast, that he couldn't move his body in fear it would overwhelm him. Love? **Love**? _Love_? Whoa, whoa, whoa, now, just hold the phone. Hinata _loved_ him? Not just liked him? Because it was more than obvious she_ liked_ him after last night, since she had even gone so far as to comfort him, but _love_? That idea certainly never crossed his mind! Just what was love anyway? Wasn't it that lovey-dovey kissing and hugging, and marriage, and babies and- Certainly, they were too young for _love_, right? But then, he didn't think he'd ever be able to describe just how quickly that vulnerability had vanished as soon as he saw those lilac eyes to the brim with tears, practically running towards him, begging him to stop feeling sad. And then he did. Because... Because she was touching him again, and wiping insistently at his temple, her hand cupping his cheek. Because she was speaking without that stutter again, and comforting him when it sounded like _she _was the one who was going to break. Because all he wanted to do then was hold her close, tell her everything was ok, and be the one to protect her from the tears and sadness. And then she said she loved him. Threw a wrench at him point-blank. And it should have frozen his mind. Really, it should have. But then his mind was racing, like it _had_ to be first, and he was suddenly remembering every time he had been with this incredibly strong, crying woman, while trying to make sense of it all at the same time. It was a strange sensation. But then he started picturing what life could be like to love and be loved by Hyuuga Hinata.

Surely, it would be fantastic. Because she was that fiercely strong, never-give-up type of woman who would take your pain away even as she felt her own, even as her own was making her cry... _as_ she told you she loved you. He could definitely see living the rest his life with someone like that. Because surely he couldn't be with someone he never showed himself to; his _whole_ self, his self that was weak, and vulnerable, and the part of him that was still there after all these years. He figured it would never go away, but... but if he spent more time - years, maybe - with Hinata, maybe it could. Maybe it would. And even if they were too young, or too much of friends, he couldn't help but feel like he might, maybe, one day soon, want to love her too. He would like that. Love it, maybe.

He watched her in quiet fascination. He was sure she wasn't even aware of the fact that she just told him what was surely one of her best kept secrets. She would probably revert even more, and shy away from him - _again_ - if she knew she let the cat out of the bag. And then he smiled at that, because maybe he wasn't the cat after all. Maybe, this whole time, _she _had been the cat, and he kept getting caught in traps, because hewas the _mouse_. He enjoyed the fleeting image of Hinata dressed as a cat, hiding behind a corner, waiting for him to get caught. But she never made a move after that. What a sneaky, timid cat. It just refused to go in for the kill.

But he couldn't have her getting all withdrawn from him again. So, with a small, tiny, little smile - like the one he'd given her this morning - he decided he wouldn't bring up the whole 'love' thing. Not yet. She needed a little more time, to get used to him being around. Because he most certainly would be, a lot. Now that he knew how to find her. Now that he knew very well how to find that strange, danged cat who's actions were so inexplicable up until now. And he figured he wouldn't mind getting caught the next time around - maybe he'll even jump head-first into it, or wait for just the right moment to be sure he got caught. Because then he'd be sure to coax out the hiding cat. He would make her show herself. Once she got used to his presence, of course. Because then, maybe, she'll no longer pass out near him anymore. Maybe, by then, she'll have let him get close enough to fall in love with her. Maybe she'll have let him in completely. Yes, he would _love_ that.

"Thank you, Hinata," he whispered, softly, so as not to startle her, "I feel a lot better now."

* * *

Wary, but believing his words more than her own heart, she stopped her thumb. She blinked then, suddenly confused as to why she was holding onto Naruto's face. And then that all-too-familiar blush consumed her.

She attempted to jump back, in that much too strong reflex of hers, only to find herself fixed to the spot by a pair of arms that had somehow encircled her waist. She was looking back towards his face when it dawned on her - she just helped Naruto. She just managed to console the greatest thing to ever exist, that probably ever will. The sudden swell of happy, can't-believe-it-was-me feelings in her heart appeased every part of her being, including the much too powerful, easily embarrassed, timid part. She felt so proud of herself for managing to stay strong and not faint again, and for actually being able to do something for him. Something, she felt, that couldn't be done by just anyone. And then there was that smile. Again, that smile, the one that was just for her - because it had to be - was greeting her eyes, rewarding her miraculous feat. She was quickly falling in love with that one too.

Everything was perfect. She was enjoying the sudden - if not, slightly uncalled for - attention of the man she loved, and not passing out. Normally, she never felt much for pride - as it was a dangerous emotion that she often saw change people - and it always seemed a very mutual thing, as pride had always been very elusive with her. But, in the moment, she felt like it was concrete; something she could call upon whenever she felt like. It had to have been because of the presence of Naruto, but she found herself really liking the uncommon sensation. She felt like thanking it, actually, as it was the main reason she was able to stand in the arms of Uzumaki Naruto - feeling a peculiar sense of self-confidence - and not pass out. She was barely even blushing, when one considered the situation she was in. And everything was just perfect. Except for the fact that she couldn't help but feel something was amiss. Like she'd forgotten or done something she shouldn't have. Because there was a certain glint in those deep-sapphire eyes that sent a shiver down her spine. Like he knew something. Like he was planning something.

She couldn't shake the feeling that it had to do with her.

- - - - - - -End.

A/N: Alas, this is where I leave you in this story. It is an open end, but I've given you more than enough clues as to what will happen between them, so I feel it's fitting. If I were to go any further into the development of their relationship, I fear it'd be never-ending. There is just so much to these two that there probably is no satisfactory ending I can give you. At least, not without a bunch of in-between stuff that I have no desire to produce. I hope you enjoyed this little ride, and I hope I've given you a satisfactory view of Hinata's perspective, if only just a glance.

I woke up this morning to an alarming 48 e-mails. Specifically, e-mails from FFnet. This lil' story of mine has been received very well, earned me so much praise, that I just couldn't hold myself back from giving this little gift to you. Thank you all so much, really. I'm overjoyed!

And I just _had_ to put that little insinuation of Hinata being a heavy sleeper in there, for my own personal shitsngiggles. This isn't even slightly related to my other story. But, if you'd like, feel free to imagine, and twist in your head, 'Heavy Sleeper' as a mature sort-of-sequel to this. But it isn't. Not officially ;)

**Thank you so much for reading! **Reviews will forever be appreciated :)

_Sidenote: I swear you guys have broken my face with this smile. It won't go away._


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